


Your Turn

by battle_cat



Series: Together [54]
Category: Mad Max Series (Movies)
Genre: F/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Prompt Fill, Rough Sex, Teasing, Wall Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-28
Updated: 2016-05-28
Packaged: 2018-07-10 17:07:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,671
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6997063
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/battle_cat/pseuds/battle_cat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They are running out of places to have sex.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Your Turn

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by [YoukaiYume's smutty art](http://i.imgur.com/9wb7Gcr.jpg).

They are running out of places to have sex.

She thrives on novelty, attacking each new act and position as if she’s learning a new move in sparring, something to conquer and make her own. They’ve already exhausted the ways they can fuck in her room, along with several pieces of furniture. 

The cars were next, but the probability of being discovered is a little too high to be exciting, especially after they forgot to clean up the mess on the Interceptor’s hood that one night and found a finger-scrawled WITNAS on the dusty windshield the next morning.

Furiosa knows the Citadel top to bottom of every tower, and keeps feeding them a steady supply of hidden nooks to fuck in. So Max is not surprised when, during the chatter and scraping benches of everyone getting up from the table after evening meal, she leans over and whispers in his ear, “Hydroponics Three, after rounds.”

Not surprised, no…but he can’t help the warmth that floods him at her tiny smile and the subtle brush of her hand against his hip as she leans close. Everyone else at the table is clearing dishes, chattering about the upcoming harvest and the scouting mission just returned from some far-flung settlements. She’s good at doing these things when no one notices, a little secret just for him.

Hydroponics Three is in the north tower. It will take some time to walk there, especially with the hallways crowded with the post-supper shuffling off to sleeping quarters. But Furiosa always does a circuit of the Citadel’s defenses after supper, checking in with watch captains and overnight lookouts, so he makes his way there at a leisurely pace to wait for her.

 

The dimly-lit stone chamber is cool and damp when he slips inside, letting the heavy metal door close behind him. It smells of green and tender growing things, baby lettuces and the precious herbs Janey uses in the infirmary—

He jumps. There’s motion in the shadows behind the door.

He spins around and she’s standing there against the rock wall, a glint in her eyes and a smirk on her face and—Oh. Shit.

She’s wearing her arm and the padded body armor that keeps the belts from cutting into her skin. And nothing else.

They’ve fucked mostly clothed, shoving aside the bare minimum of fabric and leather, and completely naked, her half-arm never seeming to be a hindrance to any position she wants to get into. But…this is new.

The diagonal leather strap of the harness traces a perfect line between her bare breasts. Below the edge of the body armor he can see the flicker of muscle in her hips and lower belly as she rocks back and forth slightly on her toes, a predator poised to attack. She’s smiling.

His dick’s hard.

He swallows.

“Come here.” Low and inviting but unmistakably an order and—fuck, it sends a rush of heat through him. He’s moving and he feels her hands, flesh and metal, grip his sides and fist into his shirt and spin him around and— _unf,_ there’s the wall. She pins his arms above his head before he can catch his breath, body pressed flush against him, her lips an inch from his, but not kissing.

“Some jobs require two hands.” Her grip is solid on his wrists and he doesn’t try to struggle; why would he want to? Her hips _grind,_ hard enough to drag a guttural noise out of his throat as she presses against his erection. The scent of her arousal is already reaching his nose, a sharp animal tang against the herbal palette of the room.

She nibbles at his neck, his ear, her bites just sharp enough to send skitters up and down his spine, her breasts pressed warm and full against his shirt. Her hips twitch against him and he’s mesmerized by the ripple of muscles in her back, the curve of her bare ass. God, he wants to touch her. His hands itch for it.

Her teeth scrape over the tendons in his shoulder and he groans. “Want—“ he pants.

“Want what?” Her tongue flicks under his ear.

“Touch you,” he gets out.

The grip of her flesh hand loosens. “You can have one.”

His hand is on her breast, kneading and pinching her nipple hard enough to make her draw in a sharp breath. “Only need one.” It’s his off hand, but he can make do.

She’s close enough that he can land a good smack on her ass, making her yelp and his cock twitch. She growls and drags a long teasing stroke up the bulge in his pants with her free hand in retaliation.

His fingers nudge between her legs, sliding through the slick already smeared there, and, fuck, she is _so hot_ when he presses three of his fingers inside her, velvety soft flesh opening up for him. He pushes deep and firm enough to make her whimper, a tiny loss of control before her metal hand twitches tight around his wrist again.

“Fuck…” she breathes as he moves his hand, his thumb teasing her clit, just enough to be not enough at all. Her grip is still tight on his wrist but her head tips back, exposing the long line of her neck. She’s dripping against his palm, twitching her hips as he fucks her with his hand, her mouth half-open in abandon as if she’s daring him to take her apart like this.

He waits until he feels the first flutters of muscle contractions around his hand. Her metal fingers relax around his wrist.

“Your turn,” he says.

“Wh—” she begins, but he wraps a hand around the ball joint, swings her arm down and around and up behind her back in an old practiced move, while his wet fingers on her other shoulder spin her around and wrap her into his grip.

“Smeg!” she hisses, but he’s already using the momentum to push her and turn her and after a brief spasm of shoving she ends up pressed against the door, her face against the cool metal.

He lets her metal arm go as soon as he’s sure his weight can hold her in place; he knows it’s strong enough to climb a rig and hold up half his body weight but a part of him still feels skittish about damaging it. The rest of her does not require such delicate handling. He shoves her hips flush against the door and she can’t help the moan that comes out of her.

“Mm,” he mutters, satisfied.

“Ohh you _schlanger,_ ” she growls, but there’s a huff of laughter underneath it.

The bulge in his pants fits way too conveniently between her buttocks, and the twitch of her glutes as she squirms against his weight just makes it better-or-worse. He uses a forearm against her sweat-damp back to hold her in place while he frees his cock. She gasps when he presses back against her and rocks against her ass.

“Mm.” He braces his arms on either side of her shoulders. “Could just rub off against your ass and not let you come at all.”

“Don’t you dare—” she pants, but it’s more ragged than commanding now, and, fuck, _fuck,_ he’ll never get over how she lets herself come apart when he pushes her like this. He sneaks a hand up to play with a nipple again, sucks hard kisses along the rippling line of her shoulder muscle until she whimpers out, “Gods _dammit_ pleasefuckmenow—”

He can’t wait any longer either, and he hooks a hand under her thigh to pick up a knee and guide his cock into the sloppy mess waiting for him. She groans out a wanton _nnngggff_ against the door as he starts moving, braces her hands and pushes back against him, meeting his hips eagerly as he fucks into her.

“Uhh, fuck, your hand,” she gasps as she arches against the door. “Need your hand—make me come—” His right hand is by her face and he slides a finger into her mouth, and she hardly needs to make anything wetter than it already is but she sucks on it greedily, a little smile curling her lips as his thumb strokes over her cheek.

He lets her leg down and shifts a little, nudging her stance wide. His fingers find her clit and he presses her flat against the door, letting his hips move her against his hand as she moans and curses and makes indescribable sounds. He’s never going to last past the first spasms of her cunt; he’s twitching and jerking into her and then pleasure whites out everything else—

 

She’s breathing hard, deep, satisfied breaths against him, still pressed between his body and the door. He leans against her, inhaling the scent of sweat and sex that now drowns out anything green and growing in the shadowy room behind them.

After a moment he eases out of her gingerly, his knee twinging with strain he hadn’t felt at all when he was fucking into her. She turns around looking sated and flushed, that disarming mixture of pleased and bashful she gets sometimes after something intense, as if she took something she wasn’t supposed to, but wanted very much. He can’t help kissing her.

When they break apart she breathes out a tiny laugh. “Never did my rounds.”

“Mm?”

“Wanted to, ah, get the jump on you.” She lowers her gaze just slightly, as if she’s confessing a secret. “Watch captains’ll be waiting for me. Probably think it’s some kind of test if I don’t show.” She does not in any way look like she’s making a move to get dressed.

“Hmm. Maybe it is. Keep ‘em on their toes.”

“Should really—” She moves to push off against the door, ends up listing into his arms on trembling legs instead. “Mm,” she mutters as he steadies her, strokes a hand over her hair. “Maybe they’ll get a surprise inspection in the morning.”


End file.
